Balance
by Ryeloza
Summary: "Your mother and I are just really different people, Tom."  Missing scenes from season seven's "Let Me Entertain You."
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **If this was mine I would already know what Tom's big secret with Renee is, and I'd be a lot less anxious.

**Story Summary: **"Your mother and I are just really different people, Tom." Missing scenes from season seven's "Let Me Entertain You."

**Balance**

A story by **Ryeloza**

When the phone rang around nine that night, Lynette was already in bed. She was exhausted—since the baby was born she hadn't had one moment where she wasn't tired—but the real reason she'd ensconced herself in her room was to avoid her mother-in-law. Steering clear of Allison was a lot easier when she put a whole floor between them. Before the first ring even finished, Lynette lurched across the bed for the phone, determined not to wake the baby, and quietly said, "Hello?"

"Hey, babe."

_Oh crap_.

"Hey," said Lynette shakily. Somehow, it had completely slipped her mind that Tom was going to call even though they'd never spent a night apart without talking before they went to sleep. She wanted time to figure out how to tell him about what had happened at dinner. She wanted a plan. She wanted a solution for how to get his mother out of the house without pissing him off to fall into her lap. The most she could do now was buy time. "How was your flight?"

"Not bad. We got in early. And, now, I know you're going to roll your eyes, but I bought the baby a onesie from the airport gift shop."

"Tom—"

"Yeah, I know. She has more than enough. But it says, 'When I grow up I wanna be a plane.' Come on. How cute is that?"

In spite of everything else going on, Lynette couldn't help but smile. Tom had been chronically buying gifts for the kids whenever he went out of town since the twins were babies. Occasionally, it was nice to know that some things never changed. "That's pretty cute," she admitted warmly.

"Yeah," Tom laughed. "But so is anything you put on a onesie, right?" And then, without waiting for her to respond, he added, "So everything still okay at home? You didn't kill my mother, did you?"

Her laughter came out, forced and involuntary—her usual, telling reaction to a lie. Before she even managed spit out a falsehood, Tom's voice cut through, low and wary. "Lynette? Did something happen?"

It was really unfair sometimes that he knew her as well as he did.

"Look," she admitted carefully, "she pushed some buttons with me. That's all."

"And you went completely against instinct and didn't push back?"

"Well…"

Tom sighed. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

A thick silence fell between them, not entirely antagonistic or annoyed, but cautious. Lately, they'd been bickering more than usual, and she knew that Tom was considering his words as carefully as she was. It really wasn't entirely unexpected; with a new baby in the house, they weren't sleeping well, and neither of them was particularly known for thinking before speaking. So their relationship was a little more volatile. It had been the same way when the other four were newborns too. Eventually it would even out again.

"Your mother and I are just really different people, Tom," she finally said, purposely keeping her tone in check. It was as innocuously as she could possibly state that fact. She and Allison had always gotten along on some level because they both loved Tom, and they both appreciated that they were each important to him. And Lynette did love her. She loved that Allison had immediately welcomed her to the family, and that she was a really wonderful grandmother, and that she never tried to compete with Lynette like they were staging some kind of a contest in which Tom was the judge. But their common ground wasn't very large, and she didn't know how else to communicate that to her husband.

"I know that," said Tom, not quite able to keep the testiness out of his voice. Immediately, she felt defensive and tried to quell the urge to snap back. "She's old and set in her ways. You don't have to take everything she says to heart."

"She wanted our daughter to wait on our sons, Tom. That bothers me. Penny is not here to serve her brothers just because she's a girl."

"I'll talk to her."

"I don't think talking is going to cut it." Lynette pinched the bridge of her nose, physically aching from the tension between them. She was so tired of fighting. "Look, I'll take care of it," she said wearily. "Don't worry about it. Just try to enjoy getting a good night's sleep for once."

"Lynette—"

"Honey, really. It's okay."

"No it's not."

Lynette shut her eyes, leaning back into her pillow and trying to take comfort in his acquiescence. Just knowing that he at least understood where she was coming from made a world of difference. "I love you," she said quietly.

"I love you too. And I miss you. And I can't wait to get home and kiss you until you can't see straight."

"Promise?"

"You and me, babe. We can get through anything."

Lynette smiled. It was a thought they'd both taken solace in time and again; one that made her think that everything was going to be okay. And without Tom's touch to reassure her, the words were all she had. "Goodnight, honey."

"Night."

Sighing, Lynette clicked off the phone and threw it onto the bed. Despite how tired she was, there was no way she was going to sleep any time soon. Somehow, she had to figure out what to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**A/n: **Thank you so much to my wonderful reviewers. You guys are so good about letting me know what you think. I'm always happy to see your reviews!

And speaking of reviews, Jess, what have you heard about the Tom/Renee thing? I've been trying to find some decent spoilers on the subject and I'm coming up empty. If you know something will you email me and let me know? My email is linked on my profile. Thank you!

Okay, on with this show! I hope y'all enjoy!

**Balance**

A story by **Ryeloza**

"For our entire marriage, you have been the one to make the decisions: 'I'm going back to work. I'm hiring a nanny.' Well this time, I am making the decision: she stays."

Lynette looked at him with a rather dazed expression, and despite how mad he was he almost felt smug. She thought that he was a Neanderthal? That was fine. He was perfectly capable of acting like a jackass; and why shouldn't he if that was how she saw him? She'd probably be happy, seeing that she always had to be right. "You know what really ticks me off?" he asked, taking full advantage of her speechlessness. "I told you I'd care of it. I told you'd I'd talk to her when I got home."

Lynette's brow furrowed and she crossed her arms. Tom knew before she spoke that he'd provoked her out of her stupor. "That's bull and we both know it."

"Excuse me?"

"I know you. I know your version of _talking _about it. Your big plan was to pull your mom aside, tell her to play nice with me, and then let it drop like nothing happened. That's how you'd deal with it. I _know_ you."

Tom faltered for a moment—mostly because that was exactly what his plan had been—but ultimately his righteous indignation won out over the truth. "At least I would have said something! I _know_ you too, Lynette. And I'd bet my right arm that you didn't say anything to my mother before you went out and hired a nanny."

"We said more than enough to each other at dinner."

"Yeah," agreed Tom, the sarcasm dripping off of his tongue. All rational thought seemed to be out the window. "Well for someone who talks all the time, you never seem to say anything important."

Lynette flinched just the tiniest bit, but only some peripheral part of him took the hurt look in her eyes to heart. He constantly kept himself in check; he always worked so hard not to say anything that might bring up that look of haunted childhood pain in her eyes; he didn't let his anger get the better of him. And now, in one instant, he no longer had the energy or willpower to shelter her. Not when she liberally said whatever was on her mind without thought or concern for anyone else. Her regret was always retroactive, and Tom was sick of it.

Without another word, he brushed past her and left the room. He wanted to leave the house. He wanted to jump in the car and take a long drive to cool down. Unfortunately, the second he stepped into the living room, he ran right into the one other person in the world he didn't want to see at that moment.

"Tommy?"

Tom shook his head, grabbing his car keys from where he'd dumped them on the table. "Not now, Mom."

"Yes. Right now." She looked at him sternly, leaving no room for argument. It was the flip side to how overbearingly caring she was—cool, calm and authoritative. Despite her willingness to do anything for anybody, she also never took any crap. "Come on," she said, walking past him and opening the front door. "We're going for a walk."

"Mom—"

"Now, Tom."

Pouting, Tom stormed out of the house onto the porch, not angry or stupid enough to rush ahead of his mother. She shut the door and then the two of them started slowly down to the sidewalk. "Tom," she said, heaving a little sigh, "I'm glad that you and Lynette are fighting."

Tom stopped short, only propelling back into motion when his mother continued to amble down the street. "What?"

"In fifty-seven years of marriage, your father and I never fought. Do you know why?"

"No."

"Because we didn't care enough. We were fine just going along, pretending that we were a happy couple. I knew about what your father was doing behind my back. You know that. The only reason I never said anything was because I didn't care."

Tom frowned, fighting against the sick feeling he got in his gut whenever he thought about his parents' divorce. It had come as a shock, even though he'd known for years that their marriage was basically a sham. Truthfully, he'd been just as happy to live the lie as his parents had been. "That's not true, Mom. You were devastated when Dad left."

"We were married, Tom. That's a life-long commitment. And you don't throw that away for any reason." His mother sighed. "I'm an old, lonely woman. And that's all because your father made me a promise that he didn't keep."

"Mom, I don't know what Lynette said to you, but you have to know that I want you to stay."

His mother smiled, linking her arm through his and patting his forearm gently. "I appreciate that, Tommy. But Lynette—"

"Lynette…" Tom blew out a frustrated sigh, forcing himself not to say anything rash. Already he'd calmed down enough to realize he'd gone too far with Lynette; he didn't have the right to speak to her that way, no matter what she said. "She told me what happened with Penny at dinner. You can't do that kind of stuff, Mom."

"I know Lynette was upset."

"Yeah, I am too." Tom held his breath for a moment, surprised that he'd actually said the words. He'd had no intention of doing that. "It's not Penny's job to serve her brothers. The twins are nineteen. Parker is eighteen…" _And you are a fifty-year-old man who was acting the same way_. He frowned, perturbed by the idea that Lynette might have been right. Again. Forcibly, he managed to continue, "They're all more than capable of taking care of themselves."

His mother shook her head. "I know that, Tom. But I like taking care of them. I like taking care of you. I don't understand why Lynette has a problem with that."

"She just—_we_ just want them to grow up to be self-sufficient. Mom, I didn't even know how to do laundry until I went away to school. I never cooked for myself. I didn't even know how to iron a shirt."

"You shouldn't have to do those things."

"But I did, Mom. I was almost thirty when I got married. That's twelve years I spent on my own. So, yeah, I want my kids to be prepared for that when they leave home."

His mother slowed to a stop, turning to look up at him with blurry eyes. Immediately, guilt hardened in his stomach. "Do you think I was a bad mother?"

"No! No, Mom, you are a great mother. And you taught me so many other things. You taught me the most important thing I know: how to take care of other people."

"Really?"

"Of course. You know Dad—Dad was never around. You took care of everything and everyone. And I…I am really lucky. Because Lynette and I take care of each other. But you're the one who taught me how important that is."

His mother's face softened and she leaned in, hugging him tightly. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Tom nodded, happy that he'd fixed something; happy that not everything was wrecked.

All that was left now was to figure out how to make up with Lynette.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine, y'all.

**A/n: **Thank you, thank you for reviewing! You guys are awesome! Last chapter of this one. Enjoy!

**Balance**

A story by **Ryeloza**

Lynette was in the shower when she heard the bathroom door open and shut. Instinctively, she rolled her eyes (Tom had been gone for nearly two hours), but the truth was that most of her anger had faded soon after he'd stormed out. She knew that she had pushed him too far. Tom didn't lose his temper often, and for some reason that usually made it easier to forgive him when he said something hurtful. Like being doused with cold water—a wake-up that she had gone too far herself. Truthfully, she felt worse about what she'd said to him, and maybe that was why she and Tom worked. Because she already knew that he felt terrible about what he'd said to her too.

She turned off the water, pulling open the shower curtain and wiping the water from her eyes. From where he sat, Tom glanced over at her and gave her an apologetic smile that she shyly returned. After a moment, he stood and handed her a towel.

"Thanks." She began to dry off, purposely not meeting his eyes. Tentativeness still hung in the air between them; if they didn't tread carefully they could still make everything worse. "Where'd you go?" she asked in a deceptively neutral tone.

"On a walk with my mom."

She looked over, surprised. "You were gone for two hours."

"We had a lot to talk about." Tom shrugged. Slowly, his eyes drifted down her body, and Lynette deliberately wrapped the towel around herself. They weren't going there—at least not yet. Sheepishly, he reached out a hand and she accepted his help stepping out of the tub. "I told her that she can't treat Penny differently than the boys. That _we_ want them to grow up independent and self-sufficient."

Guilt twisted in her gut, and she nodded. She was grateful and relieved, but mostly she regretted what she'd said in the heat of the moment. It wasn't something she could just let go as if she'd never said it. "You know I didn't mean—When I said I didn't want our kids to turn out like you that's not what I meant."

"I know."

"No, Tom. Really." She put a hand on his forearm, gazing at him imploringly. "All I meant is that I want them to be better than us. Trust me, I don't want them to turn out like me either."

"Lynette—"

She frowned, frustrated by her inability to say this right. What she felt wasn't translating into words. "You have to understand," she said. "I already see so many of your best qualities in our kids. Parker has your sense of humor, and Porter gets so much of his creativity from you, and Penny has your big heart, and Preston—"

"Is exactly like you." Tom reached out, fiddling with a lock of her sopping hair. "Lynette, you don't have to explain. I know what you meant even if it came out really, really wrong."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have lost my temper. And I should have talked to you before I invited my mom here."

"That would have been nice." She couldn't quite keep the tinge of bitterness out of her voice, and Tom gave her a wry smile. Reluctantly, she added, "But I think she should stay."

"Yeah?"

"Sure." She shrugged. "At least family will forgive me when I stick my foot in my mouth."

He leaned down, kissing her firmly, but she pulled away before it could get too heated. "Thank you," he said. "I'm just a little worried about her, you know. Since my dad left, she's been really lonely."

Lynette flinched just slightly. Speaking of things she regretted saying. Allison and Rodney had been divorced for nearly five years now, but Lynette had the eerie suspicion that Allison still expected him to come to his senses and return home. She couldn't understand it; she couldn't puzzle out how after years of infidelity and betrayal, Allison still wanted him back. She wasn't even particularly sure that Allison actually missed Rodney so much as the companionship. Maybe, if nothing else, staying with them now would help her move past all of that. Lynette thought that if she could just regard it that way, perhaps she would be able to ignore their obvious differences.

It was worth a shot anyway.

Ignorant to her thoughts, Tom began to fiddle with her towel, taking advantage of her distractedness to undo the knot. By the time she realized what he was doing and tried to back away, Tom had a firm hold of her bare hips and pulled her back toward him. "Have we made up now?" he asked, dripping his head to gently kiss her neck.

"I think so."

"Good."

"But I have to finish getting ready. I'm going out tonight."

Tom's nose grazed her neck as his leg nudged its way between hers. The stark difference in their state of undress struck her as unfair—he definitely had the advantage. "Hmm?" he hummed. "Where?"

"Bar. Emma's performing tonight. The whole neighborhood's going."

"Does that include your sexy and charming husband?"

Lynette smiled. "Only if he manages to keep it in his pants."

Tom laughed, the sound reverberating into her skin and making her giggle. She wasn't going to lie; she liked make up sex as much as the next person. But there was a time and a place…

Tom kissed his way back up to her mouth and captured her lips again for a moment before he murmured, "These things always start late anyway."

"Mmm," she moaned. "Okay. Fine. You win."

"We both win."

_Yes_, thought Lynette. _We certainly do_.


End file.
